Always a Coincidence
by Miencat
Summary: Gerita AU in which Ludwig tries to hide the fact that Feliciano may be a little more than a roommate. Germany/Italy. Romance with a good portion of Comedy and Prussia


**Gerita AU in which Ludwig tries to hide the fact that Feliciano may be a little more than a roommate. Marcello is Seborga, Mr. and Mrs. Beilschmidt are Germanic tribes/Germania, and Mr. Vargas is the absent father to Italy, he represents no cannon character. B-day gift for cloudybrowneyes, so expect much Prussia.**

Feliciano Vargas had come from a broken home, or so the Beilschmidts were inclined to believe. He never mentioned his mother; only his Nonno and his father, who appeared to be quite the drunkard. He had two brothers, an elder Lovino, and a younger Marcello, but Lovino took after their father, while Marcello was smart enough to stay out of the way. His Nonno was quite the man in his day, but was old and frail now, and had died when Feliciano was in the second grade. Which left Feliciano to bear the brunt of his father's drunken rage.

So it was of little surprise that once he and Ludwig were established as best friends, he practically lived at the house of the Beilschmidts. The auburn-haired boy was excitable and enigmatic, always a ray of sunshine in the usually dull household.

The Beilschmidts fully intended to invite the Vargas's over one day, because it only seemed proper to meet the family of the child they had practically adopted. Mr. Vargas, as was expected, lacked in any formality, only lowly muttering over the phone, "Worthless kid, goin' off and makin' friends like he's normal. You watch out for your son, mkay?"

This answer to their request was not only slightly terrifying, but showed a complete lack of any appropriate parental qualities. Mr. Vargas had agreed that yes, he and his two other boys could come over for dinner, just so the Beilschmidts could meet the "worthwhile members of this family." Which again, was a horrifying statement to make about one's son. Lovino and Marcello seemed educated and polite enough, but then why was Feliciano any different?

Mr. Vargas did show up to drop off his three sons, puffing on a long cigar and wearing a ragged suit that had certainly seen better days. It was clear he did not really care to be there, and he was just as appalled by the Beilschmidts as they were of him. He hurriedly ushered his sons through the door, making sure to swat at Feliciano with significant force before looking up to speak to Mr. Beilschmidt.

"Pleasure to 'meetcha."

The handshake was perhaps one of the most awkward Mr. Beilschmidt ever partook in. He made the promise to himself almost immediately to never partake in conversation with the elder Vargas again.

Feliciano lived with them up until the boys' college years, and after sending them off, the Beilschmidts never imagined seeing him again.

Often on quiet nights when it was just the two of them did they ponder the strange boy; he was so polite and happy, why was it that Feliciano was the one child to be kicked out? Mrs. Beilschmidt had a slight idea, but in that case, Mr. Beilschmidt had said, wouldn't that say something about their own son, since the two were inseparable? At last the college years had ended, and Ludwig had a job now, and a house; and he invited both his parents and Gilbert to spend the holidays with him.

It would be rude to decline, and it was of great interest to the Beilschmidts that Ludwig had been able to purchase a house so quickly, and a nice one too, judging from the pictures he had sent. Especially considering his profession was baking.

All this considered, it was surprising, to say the least, that Feliciano was the one to open the door when the Beilschmidts arrived at Ludwig's new home. The ditsy redhead was much the same as they had last seen him, lean and average height, rather effeminate with large expressive eyes.

Mrs. Beilschmidt was the first to begin, "Ah, Feliciano, it's a pleasure to see you again! Ludwig didn't tell us you were coming over as well."

Feliciano brought his hand up to scratch at the back of his neck. "Ah, well, Ludwig and I are roommates, I guess you could say! Did he not mention it?"

Judging from the confused look exchanged between the Beilschmidts, Feliciano would guess not.

Mr. Beilschmidt was the one to vocalize it. "No, but it is indeed pleasant to see you again, and good to see you two are still friends."

Feliciano opened the door wide and beckoned them in. "Well, don't let me keep you standing around, Gilbert got here earlier, him and Ludwig are in the kitchen."

Ludwig and Gilbert were already settled by the dining room table when the three walked in, seemingly deep in conversation, most likely catching up on the past few years. Gilbert said he might have met a girl, but when it came to Gilbert that "_might have"_ made all the difference. Ludwig stopped talking and gave a reserved smile when he spotted his parents, getting out of his seat with a grunt to greet them.

"It's good to see you again, thank you for coming over." Ludwig extended a hand in greeting, only to be pulled into a tight hug by his mother.

"Of course! It's wonderful that you have a house and job now, dear, we're so proud of you!"

Ludwig seemed a bit fazed by his mother's touchiness, wincing slightly from pain as she released him.

Feliciano seemed to notice Ludwig's discomfort and had the foresight to ask, "Hey Lud, are you still a bit sore from yesterday?"

Ludwig's face flushed slightly, but he figured it was of little use to deny it. "Ja, some Advil would be nice but it was, ah, very good."

Feliciano made a break for the medicine cabinet, sifting through bottles of pills to come up with the ibuprofen. "I hear it hurts on everyone's first time...skiing."

Ludwig seemed to regain control of his thoughts, replying with a nod and "Oh."

Feliciano unscrewed the bottle, carefully counting out the correct number of pills before handing them off to Ludwig. The blonde swallowed them quickly, as if willing the conversation to be over with. Feliciano didn't take the hint.

"But don't worry cause it was my first time skiing as well. You stayed near the bottom but I think next time you should try from the top."

Gilbert had paled considerably by the end of this conversation, seemingly aware that it held deeper implications. The Beilschmidts, on the other hand, were blissfully unaware of any underlying context.

Mrs. Beilschmidt attempted to politely draw more conversation from this. "Oh, how nice. Where did you two go skiing?"

Feliciano waved his hand dismissively. "Just hiked up a peak near the border. Nice and quiet, with plenty of fresh snow."

Mr. Beilschmidt cleared his throat awkwardly, clearly unaccustomed to small talk. "How nice that you boys have free time for that sort of thing."

"Uh, yeah," Ludwig mumbled, cursing his inability to come up with a creative response.

Mrs. Beilschmidt cleared her throat. "Well, anyways, how is it that you two stayed in contact? And to the extent of purchasing a house together?"

Ludwig mumbled something about preparing them lunch, leaving Feliciano to answer the Beilschmidts' questions. Of which he did while wildly gesturing and bobbing, capturing the interest of all present immediately.

"Well, you see, Lud and I both went to the same culinary arts school, which you probably knew, but we got to be in the same dorm together all four years, and I guess we just kinda got used to having the other around! Not to mention houses are very expensive nowadays, I'm not sure if we could afford one individually." Feliciano said all of this with a grin, hardly pausing to catch his breath.

"Ah, how nice." Feliciano was beginning to pick up on the fact that Gilbert was the only Beilschmidt with any conversational ability. Brushing off that thought, he willed himself to be a good host.

"Well, how about I show you guys to your rooms?" Feliciano carefully picked up several bags, trying not to trip as he bounded up the stairs to the guest rooms. He could hear the Beilschmidts coming up behind him, albeit at a much more sedated pace.

Feliciano stopped at the first door on the left, grinning widely as he opened the door to reveal a neatly made queen sized bed, a recently-dusted nightstand and a completely empty closet save for a few hangars and extra blankets. Cleary the work of Ludwig, to have it set up in such a neat, hotel-like manner.

"This is where you guys will be sleeping! The bathroom's the second door down, and Gilbert's got an air mattress in the office. Our-Lud's room is the one at the end of the hall." Feliciano hoped they hadn't noticed his slipup; as annoying as the request was, he understood why Ludwig didn't want his parents to know about them. After all, he had had quite the experience with his own father.

Mr. Beilschmidt hadn't noticed his error, but he had noticed something else. "Feliciano, where will you be sleeping? I hope we didn't kick you out or anything."

Ludwig hadn't really given him an excuse to get out of this one. "Eh? Well, I'll just, uh, stay on the couch, it's fine really!"

Mrs. Beilschmidt seemed a little put off by this response, but the two didn't prod any further, much to Feliciano's relief.

Luckily for Ludwig and Feliciano, the rest of the evening proceeded without much of a hitch. Mrs. Beilschmidt was quite impressed with Feliciano's culinary abilities (well, he _was_ Italian), while Mr. Beilschmidt seemed content to discuss all manners of finance and taxes with Ludwig, while Gilbert mimicked them while casually throwing winks at Feliciano. Which did not go unnoticed by Ludwig, but that was another matter, because they were at the dinner table, with their parents, and under current assumptions, there was no reason for Ludwig to get angry in the first place.

Other than that, things ran quite smoothly, with the Beilschmidts off to bed first, as they were the "early to bed, early to rise" kind of people. Gilbert followed soon afterwards, leaving Feliciano and Ludwig to themselves. Feliciano took the opportunity to settle into Ludwig's lap, resting his head leniently on the blonde's shoulder.

"So. I don't really have to sleep on the couch tonight, do I?"

Ludwig sputtered and flushed lightly. "I. Uh. No?"

The morning that followed found Ludwig and Feliciano lounging about in the living room, with Ludwig on his favorite armchair, and Feliciano on the opposing sofa (just in case they didn't hear anyone coming down, but Feliciano didn't really mind because it wouldn't be any fun cuddling a nervous and antsy Ludwig anyways).

Soon enough there was a punctuated thumping from upstairs, and Ludwig picked up the morning's paper in an attempt to calm himself; _he better not break anything_. Tilting his reading glasses slightly, he attempted to laugh it off with a comment.

"Sounds like Gilbert is up, huh?"

Sure enough, Gilbert plodded down the stairs, halting in front of the banister that segmented off the living room, only to lean over it with his trademark grin. He idly brought his hands around under his chin, propping it up slightly and widening his grin as he gained the attention of Ludwig and Feliciano.

Ludwig was the first to break the silence, with a grunt and, "Did you need something?"

"So when's the wedding?"

Ludwig just stared blankly back at Gilbert. "Excuse me?"

Gilbert just cackled, pointing between his brother and Feliciano, before explaining. "You heard me. You two are totally going out, I mean, for starters you own a house together," Gilbert paused to let the initial shock settle down, watching with interest the look of terror on Ludwig's face. "Then there's the fact I was sleeping on the air mattress, and you have a king sized bed, so don't you pretend Feli didn't sleep with you cause there's no other mattresses set up. Oh, and that was the most sexual description of a ski trip I've ever heard."

Gilbert went up into uproarious laughter yet again, pausing just enough to wink at them before continuing, "You don't even own skis, and there's an open package of condoms in your bathroom, so I can guess what's going on here. Like, good on you for getting to that point, but seriously bro, what's the point of even trying to hide it anymore?"

Ludwig honestly felt like falling off the face of the earth at that point. Gilbert was obnoxiously loud, and he had hit the mark dead on. There was little doubt in Ludwig's mind that the albino would flaunt the knowledge about, starting right with the ears he least desired it reaching; their parents.

"Gilbert," Ludwig practically hissed between his teeth, "Don't just make assumptions like that."

Gilbert just leaned further over the banister, reaching out to ruffle Ludwig's hair. "Don't sweat it, 'lil bro, it's been pretty obvious for a lot longer than you'd think."

If Ludwig could get any redder, now was certainly the time, because at that moment Mrs. Beilschmidt decided now was a lovely time to make her presence known from the stairs.

"What are you boys going on about?"

Ludwig decided now was a great time to bury his face in the morning's paper, while Feliciano nearly jumped out of his skin. Gilbert, on the other hand, straightened up and turned to face her, smirk absolutely devilish in nature.

"Oh, nothing much, just messing with Lud a little!" Gilbert's chipper tone did nothing to aid their predicament. On the bright side, he did avoid directly mentioning the fact that Ludwig and Feliciano were clearly more than friends.

However, Mrs. Beilschmidt was seemingly ignorant to any deeper meaning, simply chuckling lightly and telling Gilbert, "Don't bug your brother too much, now." She ambled about the kitchen for a bit, before locating the cereal boxes and pulling one out.

Feliciano took this as his cue to dispel some of the tension, getting up from his seat on the sofa, clapping his hands together and stating, "Well, breakfast sounds quite good right now, what do you say?"

Ludwig nodded awkwardly, making his way to the fridge to collect sausages and eggs. Mr. Beilschmidt trotted down the stairs soon after, probably awakened by the smell of cooking sausage.

"So, what do you boys have in mind for today?"

Feliciano looked up eagerly from his plate. "Well, there's a new bowling alley in town, so I figured that would be a fun activity for the afternoon!"

Gilbert grinned expectantly at Ludwig, almost demanding he try to object to Feliciano's suggestion. Ludwig blinked nervously. "Ah, that sounds like a great idea, Feli."

Gilbert's grin just intensified at the blonde's concession, but in the end all parties agreed that a game or two of bowling would be good fun for everyone (and possibly provide some family-bonding time, considering how awkward they all were around each other).

Feliciano's idea turned out to be a very good one, seeing as the bowling alley was quite new, and therefore very clean and established, which appealed very much to the Beilschmidts. They paid for two games, practically having to hold Gilbert back from barking excitedly at every person he met, and bought some of the low-quality fries and pizza that seemed to be a requirement of every bowling alley. Gilbert was quite proud to show off that he could heft up the twelve pound ball, and had Feliciano laughing hysterically when Ludwig easily lifted the fourteen pound ball from the rack. If it wasn't already blatantly obvious, Gilbert was far more talk than he was action.

All too soon it was Feliciano's turn, and even though Ludwig had _insisted_ multiple times that he didn't have to use the fourteen pound ball, it was far too heavy for him, the airy brunette picked it up anyways. As he lined up near the end of the lane, it became increasingly obvious that the ball was indeed, far too heavy, proven by the clumsy way he dipped and dove as he attempted to swing it out behind him. So it really wasn't a surprise when he dropped the ball onto his left foot, but the shriek of pain and the fact he was curling up (or rather, down, as the case may be) was of far more precedence than any "I told you so's".

Ludwig was the first to react, rushing over to pick Feliciano up before anyone could so much as ask, "Are you okay?" (Which would be the dumbest question imaginable in such a scenario).

"Feli, are you okay?! It's not broken, is it?!" The blonde hoped he wasn't tearing up because that set _such an example_ of how to remain calm and controlled in a crisis.

And by this point Ludwig had realized that the entire bowling alley was staring at them and he was holding Feliciano bridal-style and his parents were looking at them strangely, all while Gilbert was conflicted between laughing at them or being hugely concerned. None of this made for a good combination.

Feliciano, for once, was not indifferent to the mood, and sensed the need for a retrieval of Ludwig's ego. "Hey, I'm okay Lud, you can put me down now."

Ludwig's face by this point was the most interesting shade of red, unsure of whether absolute horror and embarrassment or relief was the more appropriate attitude. "Uh, right." Ludwig set the brunette down as lightly as he could, still horridly unsure of all that had just transpired. "Uh, anyways, don't try and use the fourteen pound ball again, okay?"

Feliciano gave him a reassuring smile, lightly patting his cheek and practically singing, "Don't worry Lud, heh, you're awful cute when you're nervous."

"I...uh," Ludwig was rather unsure of a way to respond to this that wouldn't help foster the no-doubt painfully accurate conclusions his parents were forming about their relationship. "...thank you?"

Thankfully, no one mentioned the strange occurrence throughout the span of their game, and except for a few strange looks now and then, the event was all but forgotten. It wasn't until they were seated comfortably in the backseat of their minivan that the Beilschmidts decided to turn around and enquire.

"So, Ludwig," Mr. Beilschmidt began this carefully, but his words held such a sharp edge that there was no doubt as to where he was headed with this. "What exactly was that back there?"

Ludwig decided playing dumb was the only beneficial option. "What do you mean?"

Mrs. Beilschmidt let out a dry chuckle. "We mean the whole scene with Feliciano in the middle of the bowling alley. Hon, ah..."

Ludwig's mouth was beginning to dry up, an Feliciano looked like he couldn't decide whether to stay out of it completely or yell at the top of his lungs. The brunette fidgeted nervously with the seat rest, while the blonde pretended to look at something passing by out the window. It became increasingly obvious, if such was possible, that the two were attempting to hide something.

Mr. Beilschmidt cleared his throat. "What she means is," He leaned up to look into the front mirror, so his eyes would be visible to Ludwig behind him, "You two have been acting rather close for roommates. Is there something you'd like to tell us?"

Ludwig felt his blood freezing in his veins. Was this the optimal time to tell them, while in a car, when they displayed suspicions? Or was their inquiry one of fear, fear that their son was "wrong" and "horrid"? He simply did not contain the mental capacity to run through every possible scenario and the multiple repercussions within the timeframe of the hour, much less the timeframe of an average pause in conversation. Needless to say, as Ludwig remained trapped in time, it was Gilbert who answered first.

"Have you even seen these two?! Like hell they're in a relationship! If you'd paid attention, you'd have realized they already consummated and everything!"

Everything seemed deathly silent after this; Mr. Beilschmidt was the first to pale, knuckles gripping tightly at the wheel as the car swerved dangerously towards the left lane. Ludwig's entire world was melting at this point, because if that reaction wasn't negative, he didn't know what was; and they were all trapped in this car, walls suffocating any hope of escape they had. Gilbert was officially the worst.

Feliciano was perhaps even more mortified, considering his own reveal to his father had gone _oh, so well_ all those years ago. This time there was no safe refuge of the Beilschmidt's house, and in fact, there never may be again. While Ludwig's terror shone plainly on his face, Feliciano's was physically more sedate, but internally was a raging hellfire, one that did not hesitate to bring small tears to his eyes.

Mr. Beilschmidt had by now resumed normal driving patterns, and stayed facing the road, knuckles still slightly white. Mrs. Beilschmidt was the first to break the silence, reaching a hand back, then leaving it suspended for a moment, as if pondering whether Ludwig or Feliciano was in more dire need of attention. Her voice was barely a whisper.

"Please don't cry, dear."

It was rather unclear who this was directed at, but the hesitating hand moved forward to rest on Ludwig's shoulder. The hand moved up and down slowly in a rubbing motion, gently relaxing the tense muscles underneath.

"Ludwig, it's okay." Mrs. Beilschmidt seemed to recognize she would not get a response from either party in their current state. "Please though, let's talk about this when we get home. And as for you," She spoke sharply now, boring her gaze into the cowering albino in the far back, "You ought to learn when to keep your mouth shut. Obviously neither of them appreciated your comment."

Gilbert shrunk back into his seat, and the awkward silence continued for the remainder of the ride, none of the Beilschmidts daring to even breathe. The moment seemed so fragile, like a glass vase held together loosely by scotch tape, and even the gentlest of noises could cause it to shatter. None were aware of what any of the others where thinking at the moment, and internal tensions increased from a mild blaze to an inferno of worries and doubts. After a seeming eternity, the car pulled up to Ludwig's driveway, and the doors to freedom were slid open. Mrs. Beilschmidt gently prodded the boys inside, collecting her purse and shutting the door softly behind them.

"Why don't you all go sit down in the living room, I'm sure everyone has a lot to discuss."

And this was how the Beilschmidt family and Feliciano Vargas came to be seated in Ludwig's living room, spread out between the armchairs and sofa, tensely watching the seconds tick by on an old analog clock. Ludwig was slumped forward with his arms resting on his knees, hesitant to look upwards, with Feliciano seated much the same way beside him, unsure of whether to reach for the reassurance of each other's hand.

At long last Mr. Beilschmidt leaned forward slightly. "Hey, Ludwig, it's okay. I know."

Ludwig shuffled nervously in his seat. "You mean you're okay with that?"

"There's nothing wrong with liking a nice ass!" If Gilbert could have picked a worse time to interrupt, then fate was truly a cruel, cold mistress, dead set on Ludwig's moral destruction by way of a cocky albino.

Feliciano nearly jumped at the exclamation, scooting further away from Gilbert, and was now within a hairsbreadth of Ludwig's shoulder. Mr. Beilschmidt sighed with copious amounts of exasperation laced under his tone, almost as though he felt Gilbert was a lost cause.

"Gilbert, _please_, as much as you love to annoy your brother, I want you to realize this is a serious and important time for him, no, for all of us! And maybe if you paid attention more, you would realize how socially awkward he is, and how terrified you must have made him right now! If you keep this up, he may never even admit that he's blatantly gay and then he'll never have the opportunity to settle down without emotional and mental compromise!"

Gilbert stopped his snickering to look up with wide eyes, as if he had never considered a possibility such as that. "I-what?"

Mr. Beilschmidt turned back to Ludwig, obviously ruffled and distressed by his sudden inability to control his actions. "Look, Ludwig, I'm sorry about that it's just, well, um..."

Mrs. Beilschmidt stepped in at last. "What he means to say is; we're your parents Ludwig, and you can tell us these things, okay? We won't hate you, and we certainly won't hate Feliciano either. But, just think, now we can all have a much happier holiday and you don't have to be scared anymore." Mrs. Beilschmidt got up and slowly made her way to the kitchen, stopping to pat Ludwig's shoulder reassuringly. "Now, how about we all have some hot tea?"

With that, Feliciano felt content to rest his head upon Ludwig's shoulder, closing the remaining gap by entwining his hand in the blonde's, feeling the gentle squeeze of Ludwig's fingers closing around his. Mr. Beilschmidt leaned back in his chair, humming contentedly, and even Gilbert had the presence of mind to remain quiet, although it was obvious this was a challenge for the energetic man.

At last he jumped up, slapping Ludwig hard on the back and exclaiming, "Well, good on you bro! You sure know how to pick the hot ones!," before sauntering into the kitchen, leaving behind a red-faced and stuttering blonde.

With a small giggle, Feliciano threw himself on Ludwig's lap, hands swinging upwards to toy with Ludwig's chin. And with the most fantastic grin, the brunette laughed and said, "Hey, Lud, I don't have to sleep on the couch tonight, do I?"

Ludwig felt his face flushing again. "I. Uh, no?"

Ludwig could just make out his father winking at them from the corner of his eye.

This holiday was an interesting one, but it marked the beginning of many, many happy years to come.


End file.
